Winter Halo (Outcast 2)

Jonas sat next to me, keeping just enough distance between us to ensure the shield remained unaffected. Unfortunately, that also meant his scent was entirely too close. I suspected it was a very deliberate ploy on his part. He might be trying to figure me out in order to understand why he was so attracted, but that didn’t negate the fact that he was. By his own admission, he was used to getting what he wanted—a fact borne out by Penny’s continuing presence in Chaos, despite Nuri’s misgivings. And while he did appear willing to wait until I decided whether I wanted to explore the attraction between us, he obviously wasn’t above putting a little sensory pressure on.

A bell chimed and then the pod door closed. Within seconds we were leaving the station, and the countryside began to blur as the train picked up speed. After a moment, I asked, “Why don’t you want”—I hesitated, suddenly aware of the silence and the fact that the others could possibly hear us—“your niece moving? We both know it’s for the best.”

“Because I promised her mother I’d look after her.” His voice was flat, growly. It wasn’t his voice, but it wasn’t far from it, either. “I can’t do that if she’s not near me.”

“So why does she live in Central and you elsewhere?”

“Practicalities. But one of us is always near enough to help if there’s trouble.”

Meaning Nuri as much as him. The telepathic connection that had come from the rift they’d all been caught in undoubtedly helped them counter—or at least deal with—said trouble.

And I couldn’t help wondering whether the “practicalities” he mentioned were simply the fact that she didn’t age thanks to the rift, or something else. Because in reality, Penny was almost as old as me, and having the mind and probably the desires of an older woman while being stuck in the body of a child had to be hell. “And your sister?”

“Died not long after Penny’s birth.”

Meaning she’d died in the war. I looked out the window. There were so many reasons why he and I were a bad idea. So damn many.

Silence fell. There was little point in saying any more; if Nuri couldn’t convince him it was dangerous to leave Penny in Chaos, there was little chance I could. But I had to wonder if he was prepared for the consequences, because the second Sal’s partners realized she was in Chaos, the vampires would attack en masse. And that might very well end in a b

loodbath.

It took just under an hour to get to the greenbelt rail station. We stepped out of the pod once the string had come to a halt, and followed the crowd to the exit. But instead of heading across to the processing station to register for work like the rest of them, we waited until the train had left, then walked across the track and followed the road down to the refuel station.

Without a word, Jonas led the way to the café adjoining the refuel center. Once inside, he walked through the many occupied tables until we reached one near the back of the room, where a man with dark hair and green eyes almost identical to Jonas’s waited. In front of him were three steaming mugs of coffee.

“Didn’t know what you wanted,” he said, briefly glancing my way. “So I ordered black with milk on the side.”

I smiled. “Perfect. Thanks.”

He nodded, but his attention had already returned to Jonas. “There’s a backpack under the table. In it is everything you need.”

“And the drivers?”

“Will be found with the truck in a few days’ time.” He glanced at me. “Drugged but alive.”

I raised an eyebrow and wondered if he’d read my thoughts. Telepathy wasn’t a common talent found among shifters, but it did exist.

“Thanks,” Jonas said. “Say hello to your mom for me.”

A smile broke the seriousness of the stranger’s face. “Like that won’t cause more problems than it’s worth.”

“I know.” Jonas’s expression was amused.

The stranger’s grin grew, but he didn’t reply. He simply picked up his coffee, gave me a nod, and walked out.

I picked up my cup and took a drink. “Am I allowed to ask who that was?”

“One of my six grandchildren.” He kept his voice low. Though there was a lot of noise in this place, he obviously wasn’t about to chance anyone overhearing him. “His mother—Demi—does not approve of his decision to follow my steps into the business.”

Meaning the mercenary business, no doubt. “He works with you?”

“On occasion.” He picked up the pack from under the table and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

I gathered my coffee and followed him outside. The truck we’d appropriated wasn’t one of the hulking haulers that often carted goods between Central and other major cities, and I guessed that was no surprise, given the truck needed to fit inside a freight elevator. It was still larger than any I’d ever driven, and nerves briefly ran through me. I shoved them aside and climbed into the cabin. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been trained to drive all sorts of vehicles, be they ground-bound or flighted. The vehicles and onboard instruments might have changed over the many years since then, but surely the basic principles hadn’t.

Jonas had already climbed into the passenger side and was in the process of scanning a notebook. Whether it had come from the backpack or the truck, I had no idea. I studied the truck’s console for several minutes, familiarizing myself with the layout, then found and pressed the start button. Nothing happened.

“You’ll need one of these before this beast will go anywhere.” He put the notebook aside and plucked two clear containers from the pack. Inside each was a small electronic chip.